The Best Laid Plans
by seattlecsigeek
Summary: Nick and Catherine find themselves in unusual circumstances after Sara seeks Nick’s advice; in the meantime Grissom is requesting Catherine’s advice on the same subject. For the 09 geekfiction smutathon. Contains adult content.


**Title: The Best Laid Plans  
Author:** Seattlecsigeek  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Beta:** Chauncey – Thank you for being our superior beta. If there are any errors, it's because the authors have dinked with the story again.  
**Pairing(s):** Sara/Grissom, Catherine/Nick  
**Summary:** Nick and Catherine find themselves in unusual circumstances after Sara seeks Nick's advice; in the meantime Grissom is requesting Catherine's advice on the same subject. Things get a little out of hand from there. SMUT!  
**Disclaimer:** We don't own CSI, although it would be nice. CSI belongs to CBS. We just like to play with the characters a little.  
**Author's Notes:** First, a warning. This story contains explicit sexual situations. Really smutty sex. Very explicit. You've been warned. Second, to **Jellybean**… **happy birthday to you (a few days late)!**

**X X X**

**WARNING: This story contains sexually explicit content.**

**X X X**

**You've been **

**X X X**

**Part 1 – Sara and Nick**

So, they'd had sex once, about a week a week ago. It had happened when they had both had a scheduled night off.

Twice, Sara Sidle corrected herself. Twice she'd had sex with Gil Grissom; but who really counted that first time, almost a decade ago? Then they'd been tipsy after visiting the little waterfront bistro and drinking a lot of coffee laced with whiskey. In the end, they'd gotten a little drunk, wandered back to her place a couple miles away, and had the most mind-blowing sex of her life.

Then a week ago they'd done it again.

One minute she'd been sitting curled up on her couch, working a Sudoku puzzle; the next minute Grissom stood outside Sara's door, asking her to dinner and then kissing her senseless before she could even answer. When he'd backed her into her kitchen counter, his tongue had slipped in and she'd gotten one hell of a coming preview of what dating him would be like.

Yeah, the feel and taste of him drove Sara out of her mind, but it didn't explain this obsession with his scent since then.

Even when standing over a corpse a couple of days ago, with the odor of decomp penetrating their skin and hair, she'd gotten close enough to Grissom to put her face near his neck and watch shivers ripple across him as she breathed across that soft part of his neck… that sensitive spot she'd licked and sucked not long ago.

The putrid smell of rotting flesh hadn't obscured the pheromones pouring off him in the slightest. If anything, the contrast made it richer – more alluring.

Nick Stokes' drawl brought her crashing back to Earth.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he asked, laughing, and Sara turned her dark eyes to scowl at him.

Blinking, Sara looked around the blue and mahogany bedroom of their latest victim. _Come on Sidle, focus,_ she thought, and frowned at Nick. Hell, she should have been examining the handcuffs attached to the bedposts. Instead, she'd spent way too much time in the last week worrying about how to get near Grissom, just to get a whiff of that erotic scent that wafted from his skin. Just the thought of it had tension and moisture building between her thighs.

"What, Nick?" she asked, impatiently.

Flashing her a trademark grin, the Texan shrugged and said, "You looked a little lost. Thought it might be guy troubles." Teasingly, he added, "Of course, you never talk about your guys much, so… maybe girl trouble?"

Rolling her eyes, Sara muttered, "Bite me," and went back to examining the victim's bed.

The sheets lay crumpled, and she already knew from the ALS that sex had been a priority in the victim's life. Christ, she'd never seen so many semen stains on one pair of sheets in her life.

Which brought her thoughts back around to Grissom… and the fact that she felt like coming every damn time she _smelled_ him.

She just didn't have a clue what kind of move to make; what to do to get his ass back in bed, where she could lick the salt from his skin, suck on his lips until she drowned in him, and sink down until he filled her completely and in every way.

That was the problem though – she didn't have any idea how to do it. Sure, she had a general concept, but nothing like how Grissom had treated her – pampering her to a movie and popcorn, holding doors for her, and focusing all of his attention on her needs. The entire night, he'd been a pure gentleman, holding her hand and seeing to her every need; even when she'd fallen asleep on his couch, he'd been there when she woke.

Then later that night he'd invited her to his bed. The way he'd touched her had made her feel utterly cherished.

"Hey, Nick?"

"Yeah," he murmured distractedly, turning away from the dresser he'd been examining. Giving Sara his full attention, he asked, "What have you got?"

Feeling stupid, Sara opened her mouth and then several seconds later closed it. Blowing out a breath, she resolutely pushed aside the embarrassment making her skin flush pink and said, "Hypothetically speaking… if a woman wanted to really treat a guy, what would she do?"

When his eyebrows shot up, Sara sighed. She grimaced, though, when he began to grin and that teasing tone entered his voice. "So, you really _do_ have a boyfriend."

At his chuckle, Sara frowned and hissed, "It's not funny." That only made him laugh harder.

The look on her face must've indicated just how serious she was, because pretty soon he said, "Hey, you're not kidding."

Blowing out a breath, he put down his camera and said, "So, you're looking for a way to… what?"

"I don't know," Sara said with a shrug. Dropping her eyes, she mumbled, "Maybe I want to make a guy feel like he's being taken care of."

Nick's eyes zoned out, as Sara waited, like he was staring at some point off in the distance, which would be hard to do in the small master bedroom they were currently searching. Finally, he said, "Have you thought about maybe finding a way to relax him? I dunno, maybe giving him a massage or maybe soak with him in a hot tub?"

While a smile slowly crept up Sara's face, a plan began to slowly form in her mind.

Meanwhile, Nick looked dazed. It had been so long since he'd seen her happy, that the sparkle in her eyes simply dazzled him. For a moment, he watched her features become animated, and then he started to listen.

"That massive jetted tub in his bathroom ought to do the trick," she murmured, as the plans began to really take shape. She'd get to his house and pick the lock. Slowly, she would strip off her shirt and let it float to the ground. The first bread crumb for her lover to follow. She'd leave a trail from his entry, down the stairs, through the kitchen and finally the bedroom.

It would feel so good to rub and stroke her breasts before snapping the bra open in the front, and leaving it on the staircase. In her mind, as she moved toward that big jetted soaker tub, she'd be able to fondle her nipples, pinching at them as she imagined his teeth lathing her with his tongue.

Sara could imagine the feel of his hands stroking down over her stomach, and it would be those very hands she'd have in mind as she dipped her fingers into her waistband. By the time she'd unzipped and unhooked her slacks and let them pool to her feet in the kitchen, she'd be so wet, that the panties she left just outside the bathroom would be soaked through with her own juices.

Then she'd just have to drop a few more breadcrumbs and wait, building up her own heat as she lay in the tub. He'd appreciate the look of lust in her eyes before he joined her.

As she felt herself flush hot and her breathing turn shallow, she thought of the possibilities – every way she could seduce him.

Thickly, she turned to Nick and murmured, "Thanks," and returned to the task at hand. As she attempted to refocus herself, she didn't even notice that Nick hadn't moved.

She also didn't realize that she'd spoken her every wicked, lascivious thought.

Nick couldn't breathe. Or move.

His erection had thickened with every vivid word she'd spoken while detailing her fantasy. When she'd wet her lips with her tongue about halfway through her erotic narration, he'd nearly erupted.

Now that she'd returned to her work, bent over and looking at the bed, he considered how she would take it if he tried anything. Of course, he had no doubt Sara would lay him out flat if he even laid a hand on her, but that fear of the pain she could cause him didn't stop the images she'd evoked – the images running rampant through his head. Christ, her ass looked nice in those pants.

Thinking about how bad he ached, Nick groaned, drawing Sara's attention.

"Are you okay?" Sara asked, turning her head and standing upright.

"Y-y-yeah," he stuttered in response, glad she couldn't see the massive hard-on from her angle. "I could use some air though."

"Why don't you head outside," she offered. "I'll finish up in here."

"Yeah, okay," Nick said, his voice sounding strangled. He left carrying his evidence bags and kit a little closer to his body than usual. _Outside_, he thought, _where maybe I won't be tempted to do something I'll regret._

**X X X**

**Part 2 – Catherine and Grissom**

Gil Grissom couldn't get the young brunette out of his mind. The graveyard supervisor, normally a man of unusual focus, had been daydreaming about Sara Sidle ever since he'd merged onto the freeway. Truth be told, she'd been driving him to distraction for days.

Ever since he'd made love to the young woman he'd been trying to figure out the best way to get her back into his bed  and how to make it spectacular enough once he got her there to keep her there. Grissom knew it was time to do something about the situation when he couldn't even finish the Tuesday New York Times crossword puzzle. Tuesday, for crying out loud!

"Grissom! Hey, Gil! You want to talk about it?"

Frowning, Grissom glanced to his right. He'd completely forgotten that Catherine Willows was sitting next to him in the passenger seat of the Denali. He hadn't said a word to her the whole time they'd been driving, and if she'd said anything to him it hadn't even registered.

"Sorry, Catherine, just thinking about the case," he said, hoping she'd buy it.

"Come off it, Gil. You've been walking around in a daze all week. Something's bothering you, I can tell." Sitting in the predawn darkness, Catherine stared at him for several beats before starting in again. "Come on, Gil, maybe I can help. That's what friends do, you know. They talk to each other when something's bothering them."

Catherine had known Gil Grissom for nearly twenty years and she'd only seen him worked up like this a few times. It had always been because of a woman. Before he'd become supervisor there'd always been the odd female lab tech for him to chase after, but it had never seemed to lead to anything. And then, several years ago, he'd come back from a seminar in San Francisco all worked up over a girl he'd met. He must've lost fifteen pounds before he worked her out of his system. Then there'd been that forensic anthropologist, Teri Miller. He'd been a mess over her for a month. And who could forget Lady Heather. How Gil Grissom, a world renowned scientist, could become so beguiled with a professional dominatrix was beyond Catherine.

"You're a woman, Catherine," Grissom softly said, slowing behind an old RV before changing lanes and passing it.

"There have been rumors to that effect," she replied, tartly.

"Maybe you can help me." And maybe she could, he thought to himself.

"I want to sweep a woman off her feet, Cath. I want her to be completely enthralled with me. I guess I want to rock her world." Grinning, he turned to glance at Catherine only to see a stupefied look on her face. "Well, you did ask."

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Catherine grinned herself. "No...It's fine. You just took me by surprise is all. Let me think for a minute." He really did sound sincere. And he _was _her friend. He'd saved her butt professionally so times that Catherine felt she owed him, even if it meant giving him advice on bedding a woman.

"It seems to me that your job has always been the sticking point with women. So, first of all you'll want to be able to devote some time to this girl…what's her name, anyway?"

"Uh, I'd rather keep that to myself, Catherine, if that's alright."

Even in the dark, Catherine could tell that he was blushing. If he's blushing now, just wait until he gets a load of my advice, she thought to herself.

"Okay, not a problem. First of all, don't talk about your work. And no bugs. I don't care what you think, Gil, insects are not conducive to a romantic evening. Then, you'll want to clear your schedule, turn off all your phones, and light some candles. You're a decent cook; you should make a romantic dinner for two at your place for our mystery woman. That really knocks a woman's socks off."

"Good, I like that." Grissom merged right and slowed for the exit. "What else?"

"Well, once you get her into bed you want to make her crazy. Lots of foreplay. You've got to toy with her, like a cat does a mouse. Drive her just to the edge of orgasm, and then back off." Catherine glanced over to see if he was still blushing, but he seemed to have regained his composure. "Then again and again. When she finally does come, it'll definitely rock her world."

Driving slower now, on the narrow, two-lane blacktop, Grissom concentrated on Catherine's advice. "Okay, can you give me some specifics?"

"Well, as I recall from that one make-out session we had twenty years ago, you don't need any advice in kissing." Catherine could feel her blood start to thrum just thinking about the way Grissom had kissed her. Even if he did think the sex life of a beetle was interesting, the man knew how to kiss.

"So, we'll work down from there. Start out gently on the nipples, and very slowly increase the pressure. And did you know that every crease on the body is an erogenous zone? Even the inside of the elbows, the backs of the knees and the spot where the legs meet the torso. Front and back."

Glancing to her left, Catherine could see the blush starting to regain its hold on Grissom's face. She smiled, until she realized from the heat on her own cheeks that she must be blushing, too.

Grissom squirmed in his seat a bit before asking in a rather hoarse voice, "Fingers or tongue?"

When he only got a faint "Huh?" for a reply, he elaborated, "Which is best, fingers or tongue?"

"Oh, both, either. Dealer's choice." Catherine was starting to feel decidedly aroused and squeezed her thighs tighter together. "When you get to the heart of the matter use both at the same time. Definitely, both."

"Umm…the heart of the matter?" Grasping the steering wheel with all his might, Grissom clenched his jaw and asked, "What do you mean the heart of the matter?"

"Jeez, Gil. The pussy. Tongue on her clit, fingers on her G-spot. If you do it right you can actually make a woman ejaculate." Catherine swallowed hard. Damn, but she was thirsty.

"Do it right?" Grissom asked, meekly.

"Index and middle finger on either side of the G-spot. You massage it. If you do it right, the orgasm is so profound the woman ejaculates a small amount of fluid from the urethra."

"Jesus," Grissom murmured as he pulled up at the crime scene. The thought of making love to Sara in that way seemed to have all the blood in his body rushing to his crotch, and he was relieved to park the truck before he drove it into a ditch.

Grissom and Catherine weren't the only ones blushing, as they pulled up to the small ranch house the sky started to blush with the break of dawn. As the dust settled around the Denali the two sat in a daze, listening to the slow ticking of the cooling engine, erotic scenes playing out in their respective imaginations.

Eventually, the rhythmic sound of footsteps brought them back to reality as one of their co-workers left the residence and walked towards them.

Nick Stokes seemed a little unsteady on his feet as he came out of the crime scene. And as he approached the parked Denali, even he seemed to be blushing.

"What's up, Boss?" he asked Grissom, even though his eyes were drawn to Catherine. "We're nearly done here. Couple more hours, max. You know, there's not really enough room in there for all four of us."

"Well, since you ended up working a double yesterday, Nicky, why don't you and Catherine go to breakfast? I can finish up for you here. Sara and I'll see you back at the lab a little later." Grissom slowly stepped out of the truck. He was sporting a fairly good woody, and as he gathered his gear and walked uncomfortably towards the house he thanked God that he habitually wore baggy trousers to work.

Sliding behind the wheel, Nick grinned at Catherine. "Damn, I hope my knees don't ever get as bad as Grissom's."

**X X X**

**Part 3 – Nick and Catherine**

Grinding his teeth together, Nick drove, stealing glances at the strawberry blonde in the passenger seat. He'd driven enough times with her to know that she nearly always sat with her left leg crossed over her right and her hands in her lap.

Yet she sat there, looking dazed, with her legs spread apart. Quite frankly, he'd been a little scared by the look of pure hunger in her eyes when they'd left the scene.

She'd already unbuttoned her shirt halfway. When she'd done so, she'd rasped, "It's so hot…" and her voice had trailed off. The painful erection that had finally begun to ease had returned with so much force, he'd ground his teeth harder to hold back a moan.

Breakfast. He and Catherine were supposed to be going to grab a bite to eat, and then head back to the lab.

So, why the fuck was he pulling into his own driveway?

Slamming on the brakes, he lurched forward when the car stopped, turned in his seat, and yanked Catherine to him. The avid hunger in her eyes gave permission enough for Nick begin sucking and licking at her lips.

_She tastes so fucking good_, he vaguely thought as he forced her mouth open and invaded with his tongue. Roughly fondling and forcing his way into her, he swallowed the whimper that escaped into his mouth and groaned when she reached across the console to stroke him through his jeans.

"I want you," he ground out, reaching out with a shaky hand to open the few remaining buttons. Spreading the blouse wide, he admired the dark nipples through white lace and bent his head to suck.

Catherine's head rocked back against the seat, with a grunt of approval as Nick licked at a tight peak nearly poking through the intricate floral pattern.

"I want this off you," he stated, too impatient to find the clasp. Instead, he swept the straps over her shoulders and yanked down until her breasts spilled out.

Lowering his head, he let the scent of her drive him on. She smelled lightly of vanilla and honey. That was Catherine for you, though. Most thought she'd smell all rosy, but her skin smelled natural. As she writhed against him, Nick growled, "Hold fucking still," and sucked harder, until she cried out.

It hurt to have him bite that hard, but she wanted it even more. The shock of pain made her gush and instead of drawing back, Catherine laced her fingers through Nick's hair and held his mouth to her breast.

When he began to lick, she looked through the windows and realized the neighbors on either side of his place could easily watch if they wanted, and murmured, "Inside, Nick."

As if in a daze, Nick stopped worshipping each nipple in turn, and looked up into Catherine's eyes. Turning his head, he realized she was looking around his neighborhood and grunted, "Yeah. Inside."

Vaulting like a shot out of the driver's side door, he bounded around to the passenger side and yanked open Catherine's door.

Once she left the confines of the car, Catherine had no doubt how exposed she'd be. Slowly pulling up her shirt to close over her chest, it came as a shock when Nick frowned and muttered, "No."

Before she could react, he'd hauled her against his muscular frame, turned her around, and yanked her shirt back down. As she lay pinned against the metal of the vehicle, she gasped. The feel of the steel against her swollen breasts made them ache, as a jolt of heat went straight through her lower belly.

She had no idea what he was doing, just that it was taking to long as he jostled her, causing her nipples to rub against the metal.

Then suddenly, he pulled her back against him. Feeling exposed in the cool morning air, she moaned when a breeze played against her puckered, abused breasts, making them tighter. Painful.

That was when Catherine realized she couldn't move her arms. A knot of fabric bound her wrists, and she struggled. As Nick turned her to face toward his front door, he stayed behind her. Yet they didn't move forward. Instead, he brought his hand around to squeeze and stroke her breasts. Moaning, she leaned against him, tilted her head up, and closed her eyes against the bright early morning sun.

"Fuck me," she whispered between ragged breaths. Even if it meant dropping her trousers while he buried himself in her right there, she didn't care.

Nick just about did just that. He'd never been one for voyeurism, but he couldn't help but like the feeling of power that swept over him. The woman leaning heavily against him and panting was letting him fondle her damn near in his front yard. Just the thought had him groaning as the pain increased from being so fucking hard for so fucking long.

Gruffly, he pushed her forward, making sure to help her steps, never letting go as he pinched at her swollen peaks the entire way.

Letting go with his right hand, he dug out his keys and slammed open the door.

Staggering inside, Nick kicked the door closed and guided Catherine forward, until she kneeled on the couch.

"Don't," she whispered, when Nick went to untie her hands. "Drop my pants to my knees, Nicky."

Running his hands over her breasts and down her abdomen, Nick obediently opened her pants and slid the trousers to her knees. He sucked in a hard breath at the matching white lace thong.

Reaching out, he stroked his hands over her ass, until she said, "Finger me."

Even tied up, she could be dominant, Catherine mused, until she felt Nick slide her panties out of the way and thrust the entire length of a thick finger into her. Gasping, she leaned over until her face rested against the back of his tan couch. The soft fabric cradled her cheek and steadied her as that finger began to push in and out of her.

Considering how swollen he'd become, Nick didn't think a single finger could possibly stretch her wide enough to fit him at that moment. Adding a second, he felt her walls clench around him as he moved in and out of her – moisture from her sliding down his fingers and beginning to coat his palm.

When she started pushing back against his hand, he added a third finger. The keening noise had him ready to explode and he groaned, "I can't take it anymore."

After pulling his t-shirt over his head, Nick unbuckled his belt and shoved his jeans and briefs to his knees.

When he bent over her, Catherine whimpered at the feel of those rough hands squeezing her breasts and holding her up. Then she felt the head of his cock between her spread legs.

"You're so fucking wet," he murmured into her ear, right before he started entering her… too slowly.

"More," she demanded, her voice harsh… and she pushed herself back until every inch of him was inside.

Nick thought he might explode right then, and ground his teeth again. She'd taken him by surprise, and he hadn't been ready for just how hot she was. Pulling out slowly, he stood up and held her hips.

"No, darlin'," he murmured, grinning. Holding Catherine still, Nick slowly withdrew, relishing her whimpers, and then pounded himself back into her so hard she slammed her cheek and shoulders into the back of the couch. Over and over, he withdrew nice and slow, feeling the head of his cock swell.

He kept up this torturous pace until Catherine couldn't take it anymore and begged, "Please, Nicky. Stroke my clit. Make me come."

Leaning over her again, he reached around, ran his finger from where his balls, where his cock was embedded into her, up to her clit.

Rubbing slow circles around her clit, Nick began a hard, fast pace, breathing heavily onto her shoulder. "Christ, Catherine. You're so fucking tight around me. So fucking good," he groaned, as he rubbed with his finger and pumped in and out of her.

Pressure built up in her, as Catherine met his pounding. When he stroked below his clit with his wet finger, and used his thumb to stroke above it, she exploded, yelling his name.

Nick could feel her squeezing around him, as he thrust hard and stroked her with his hand. When she screamed his name, everything went hazy as the velvet walls and tangy scent of her filled the air. When moisture spilled out of her, dribbling down his balls, he exploded in a fury, grabbing her hips and shoving himself into her so hard he groaned.

Moaning, "Ohhhh," he let the spasms of her walls squeeze the cum out of him. Buried deep, he felt her tied-up hands tickling at his stomach and collapsed over her back, hot and sweaty.

Breathing hard, he kissed her back. By now, her face was on the seat of the couch, and her own ragged breath matched his.

As he began to soften, he stayed within her walls, enjoying the warmth of wetness they provided, relaxed in the afterglow.

"You must be getting uncomfortable," he murmured, although Catherine disagreed. It had been a long time since she'd felt so good. She liked the feel of him still within her, going soft but still warming her from the inside out.

"S'okay," she mumbled into the cushion, and grinned at his chuckle.

Bending up just enough, he stroked her back with one hand and deftly untied her knotted shirt. Then, he lifted her by the thighs and twisted about to settle on the couch, never leaving her.

That's one thing about being with a muscle-man, Catherine mused, as she leaned back against Nick's hard chest.

Turning her head, she said, "You do understand I'll kill you if you ever tell anyone," and smiled when he laughed.

"Same here," he replied, gently stroking his hand over her abdomen.

They sat there, with Catherine leaning back into his embrace, until he softened and contracted enough to lose the connection. Sighing, she said, "I suppose our breakfast is over," and stood up. "We better head back to the lab before our boss starts looking for us."

As she pulled up her pants, Nick gave her a funny look and asked, "What made you want to do this?"

"Not want," she said, grinning. "I needed it." More thoughtfully, she added, "Let's just say I had a conversation with Grissom that kind of got me…"

"Hot and bothered?" Nick asked, his mouth quirked up.

"Something like that," Catherine replied. "What about you?"

"Oh, Sara was asking my advice on a guy she's dating," he replied, buckling his belt and searching around for his shirt.

Catherine reached down to grab her shirt off the floor, when both of their heads shot up at the same time, their eyes wide.

"You don't think…" Catherine breathed out.

"Grissom and Sara?" Nick asked, his eyes wide. "Do you think…?"

They stared at one another for nearly thirty seconds before they both answered.

"No way."

**X X X**

**Part 4 – Grissom and Sara**

She wasn't quite sure how she knew, but Sara was certain it was Grissom entering the room behind her. Maybe it was the sound of his footsteps that she knew so well. Or, maybe it was his smell. Whatever it was, she felt the sexual tension in the room ratchet up a couple of notches, and when she turned and saw his smoldering eyes and tense body, she felt things ratcheting up a couple of hundred more notches.

"Hey, Gris, what's up?" she asked, trying for nonchalance. As he crossed the room towards her, she noticed that his face was flushed and that his jaw was clenched.

"Cath and I were on our way to a scene and got waved off. The responding officer decided the _body _was animal remains." As he stood next to Sara, she could feel a dart of anticipation shoot through her body. "Anyway, since Nick is close to being maxed out on overtime, I thought I'd finish the scene with you and get him off the clock for a bit." Stopping in front of her, he asked, "What's left to do here?"

"Um, not much." She cleared her throat, embarrassed by how unsteady her voice was. "There are still two empty bedrooms to go through. The couple had only lived here for ten days. It's a brand new house, so it should be a snap."

Taking a half a step closer, Sara raised a hand and ran her palm tentatively across his chest. "We haven't had much time alone…um…since last week. Are you okay? You know, ah…with what happened. It seems like you've been keeping your distance, and well…I was a little worried…shit. I'm over talking again, aren't I?" She dropped her eyes, willing herself not to back away.

Grissom couldn't help but smile at her; she was actually nervous. Didn't she know why he'd been keeping away from her at work? Hell, it was all he could do to keep his hands off her whenever she was near.

"Sara, every time I see you I want to touch you, to kiss you. Hell it's all I can…."

Suddenly she was in his arms and he _was_ touching her, kissing her  crushing her body tightly against his own. He could feel her satiny tongue dart into his mouth and her warm hands against the skin at the base of his spine, and they were standing in the middle of a FUCKING CRIME SCENE!

Grissom jumped back as if he'd been electrocuted. "Jesus, Sara! We're in the middle of processing a scene. This is exactly why I've been keeping away from you." As he spoke, Grissom slowly backed across the room, but Sara followed him every step of the way.

She grinned as she reached out and caressed the erection that she'd noticed straining against the fabric of his baggy slacks.

"Come on Gris, you can't tell me to go away now. I know you want it as much as I do. See, I've even got evidence. We could go out to the truck…" she said, pouring as much seduction into her voice as she could.

"Christ, Sara, it's already light outside." Grissom was standing with his back flat against the wall, his voice gravelly and hoarse.

"Shit." Sara pressed herself against him, feeling his body tense as she ran her tongue up the side of his neck, tasting the salt, feeling the need coiling low in her belly. "How about the utility room? It's off the garage. I already processed it, and there wasn't a hint of evidence. From the state of their sheets I don't think they'd even knew they had it. There aren't any windows…we could do it up against the washing machine." Knowing he was close to accepting she nipped his earlobe before whispering, "I won't even make you wait for the spin cycle."

"Spin cycle?" Grissom was pondering what she meant by that when he felt her palm rubbing his hard-on through his pants. A utility room? Never been used? Already been processed? Jesus, he couldn't believe he was actually thinking about having sex at a crime scene. But, as Sara's hand became more insistent he decided maybe it would be alright.

"Honey, I don't want you to think you can just lead me around by the cock, but where exactly _is_ this utility room?" Closing his eyes he bent his head and kissed her hard before turning her around and giving her a little push. "Lead on, my dear."

Sara's head was full of conflicting thoughts as she headed towards the other end of the house with Grissom in tow. What if Nick and Catherine came back and caught them? Or worse, what if Brass showed up? But, she was hornier than she ever thought was possible. And Grissom wanted her. He _really_ wanted her, if the massive hard-on he was sporting was any indication.

The sound of the door quietly clicking shut behind them drove any doubts out of her mind. Feeling her desire coalesce into a throb of longing in the pit of her belly, Sara turned and stared into Grissom's eyes.

It was a small room filled with a washer and dryer, a water heater, and lots of empty shelving. A skylight provided just enough light for Grissom to plainly see the battle Sara was having between nerves and lust. Her eyes were dark with desire, but she was biting her lower lip and clenching her hands. Closing half the distance between them, he cocked his head in silent question. In answer, she crossed the remaining distance.

Grissom buried his hands in her hair and kissed her deeply, plundering her mouth with his tongue. Pushing her back against the washing machine he paused to gaze into her eyes in wonderment. He wanted her, and to his amazement she wanted him. As if to prove it, she reached up and began to unbutton her blouse.

Focusing on the task at hand, Grissom began to nibble his way down from the crease of Sara's earlobe, a known erogenous zone. When he scraped his teeth across the skin covering her collarbone she groaned and he smiled to himself, maybe he could find a few erogenous zones on his own.

Sara let her shirt slip from her shoulders and gasped when Grissom buried his head between her breasts. She felt her back arch of its own accord as he began to lick and nip his way to her nipples. Reaching behind her, she unclasped her bra and let it fall away. With agonizing slowness, Grissom gently licked first one nub and then the other. He went back and forth until she thought she would go mad.

"Fuck, Gris, harder. I want it harder." She felt a bolt of electricity shoot to her core when he finally scraped his teeth across one of the distended knobs.

The bucking of her body was signal enough for Grissom to know he was onto something, and so he sucked as hard as he dared until Sara started to urge him upward, tugging at his clothes. When his face was level with hers she kissed him hard, hot and urgently.

Amazingly, Grissom felt his cock grow harder and rubbed it against her thigh, humping it, he thought, like a horny teenaged boy. But that's how she made him feel; and God damn, it felt good.

Sliding his hand between their bodies, he started to rub Sara's mound through her pants. She moaned, shifting her stance to allow easier access and he pressed his fingers between her legs. Feeling the dampness of the fabric made his cock twitch painfully against the confining fabric of his slacks.

Breaking away, Grissom began to fumble with his belt. "Jesus, Sara, I need to be inside you."

Sara laid her hands over Grissom's trembling fingers, brushing them aside. "Then maybe you'd better let me take care of this." Deftly, she unfastened his belt and trousers, freeing his raging hard-on. "Oh God, yeah. It's so hard, so hot," she said softly as it sprang free.

Wrapping her slim fingers around the steely length, she stroked him until pre-cum started to weep from his cock. Dropping to her knees, Sara licked the clear liquid from the purpling tip, making him hiss. Smiling to herself, she flicked out her tongue and drew it slowly up the underside of his straining prick, all the way from his balls to the slit in its head.

"Sweet Jesus, Sara, stop. I can't take much more of that. I need to be inside you when I come."

She nuzzled her face against his wiry pubic hair, taking a deep, satisfying breath before rising. His smell was heady mix of soap, sweat and musk. Very alpha-male, and very arousing.

She quickly stood in anticipation. Unfastening her jeans, she slid them down her legs and kicked them aside with her shoes before turning to brace herself against the washing machine. Throwing a sultry look over her shoulder, she said, "God, I need you. I need to feel you inside me."

Grissom couldn't take his eyes off her as he toed off his loafers and fought to remove his slacks without falling. It had been dark when they'd made love the week before, and he hadn't realized what a sight she made. She was long and slim, and had creamy skin dusted with freckles. And even though she was thin, she had curves in all the right places. The sight of her curvaceous ass, bared invitingly for him, caused his balls to tingle and tighten.

He laid his hands on the swell of her hips, squeezing firmly while he nudged open the lips of her pussy with his cock. Taking himself in hand, he slowly ran the head of his hard-on along her wet slit. When she moaned and rocked her hips back towards him, he took his cock by the base and tapped it insistently against her pussy, again and again, listening to her gasp each time.

Finally, Sara couldn't take the exquisite torture any more and begged, "Please, Gris, fuck me. Fuck me hard."

Finding her opening once more, he grasped her hips with his hands and rammed himself home. "Oh God," he murmured, as he paused, fully sheathed. His fingers dug into her hips as he struggled to hold on to his control.

Sara could feel his cock throbbing inside her with each beat of his heart. It seemed to be growing in both girth and length with each and every throb. Reaching back between her legs, she ran her fingers over his balls, cupping and squeezing them; they felt tight, and she knew he was close.

Placing her fingers on either side of her opening she began to ride him. As she worked forward and back on the balls of her feet, she could feel his hard cock sliding between her fingers, arousing her even more. Steadying herself against the washer, she pulled her hand forward and began to stroke her clit, her fingers slick from her own juices.

Grissom covered her hand with his own, feeling her touch herself. "Oh yeah, baby, that's it. Make yourself come for me. I'm almost there."

He started to meet her rocking hips with his own thrusts. Faster and harder they moved together. The sounds of their damp flesh slapping together, vying with the sounds of their hoarse moans and groans. Grissom could feel his muscles begin to tighten, and when Sara shouted out and began to spasm around his cock he came, spurting in rhythm with the clenching of her pussy around him.

They both collapsed on top of the washing machine, legs weak, chests heaving. Grissom entwined his fingers with Sara's, their hands still between her damp thighs.

As his heart rate returned to near normal, he stood and started to withdraw his softening cock. Concentrating on each and every feeling, Grissom suddenly exclaimed, "God damn it, I forgot about your G-spot!"

Stifling a laugh, Sara murmured, "No, you didn't. You were hitting it just fine."


End file.
